Too little too late

I hate you.
I hate you for believing in me, for encouraging me.

Where were you when I doubted myself, when I thought I wasn't good enough and never would be?

I hate the ones who rejected me, who turned me away and made me give up.

I hate the voices in my head, the ones that tell me to stop pretending, to let it go, to move on and abandon my dream.

What dream?

Once I was young and eager, so young and full of something, was it attitude, was it aggression, I don't know that it was passion, but it was something more then this passive-agressive-non-believing lump of discouragement, and though she disgusts me now, that me of years ago had more desire to succeed than this give-up-and-go-home attitude.

I hate you for making me feel again, for making me want it, for using my finger nails to claw at the mountain of dirt to pull myself up and try again when I just want to lay down and admit defeat.

I hate you all.

But you most of all.

I hate you for the lump in my throat which you caused, you must have known it would invoke a reaction. Admitting that your first impression was wrong and that you were glad you were proven wrong.

Maybe you saw something in me that I no longer saw in myself, refused to see in myself because the glass mirror once shiny and clean is now smudged with dirt and blackness to the point where I can't even see myself clearly.

Did you see me? What did you see in me? I know you wouldn't lie.

But why???? Why now. Why when you are leaving and flying miles away, why when I am at the end of the line, why when I am so ready to give up and call it quits, why must you make me feel??

I hate feeling. I hate how you crack my numb exterior, the one I use to protect myself from getting hurt, from people like you.

Once I wished to be seen, to be heard, I thought I was G-d's gift and it was my duty to let people know what they were missing.

A few Youtube videos and articles later and I was put in my place. I was no longer special, I would never make it in this tough world so why bother trying.

I was fine lying to myself. I was fine!

I love how you just assume that I'll do great things. I love how you say it so casually as if it could actually happen.

Can it?

Is it possible that maybe you are right about me?

Is it too late for me to see in myself what you have seen?

I don't hate you. I can't even tell you how much your words mean to me, how much they hurt me but at the same time give me hope.

Maybe I'm not done yet.

Maybe I will do great things.

Maybe it is not too late for me.

Mine

He runs down the stairs, hair wet from a bath and I just want to gather him into my arms and inhale his baby scent. It's his upshernish tomorrow and I can't part with his baby face and his gorgeous golden curls. He tells me something that I struggle to understand and then says, with eyes wide, 'is that cool?'. Of course, everything he says is cool.

I lay on the couch with the baby on my lap after the other kids have gone to sleep. She keeps trying to grab my glasses so I hold up my hand in defense. She grabs my hand in both of her tiny ones and pushes it out of her way. Then goes back to grabbing. I was there the day she was born, and here this little beauty is growing into a mischievous little bundle of cuteness.

I'm exhausted and mom rolls her eyes and asks me why. Well, I may not be a mom but watching her kids is stressful. Don't do this, don't touch that, eat your lunch, no you cannot have candy until you eat, wash your hands, go to bed, give that toy to your brother, etc etc. I can't relax around kids. She tells me I'm too stressed, I should just chill.

She wouldn't mind if I moved into her house, she thinks I'm nuts if I buy food or do laundry anywhere else, cuz I should have come to her, I'm not considered a guest and somehow I've become part of the fabric of their lives.

But there's a part of leaving and going home to my place that makes me realize that they are not 'mine'. Maybe I'm very possessive. I used to get insulted when a kid would tell me 'you're not in charge of me' as they are wont to say when they challenge authority. But this time I simply said, you're right and thank G-d for that. (Plus I responded that it's fine, if he didn't want to listen then I didn't have to read him a story in bed.)

Some kids run to you when they see you and love to be held, and some kids break your heart by turning away when you just want to gather them up in your arms.

One day there will be kids with my name on them, they will be mine to smother, to mother, to baby, to screw up or get it right or simply keep trying thinking there is nothing I can do right. But they will be mine, and no amount of 'going home' will change that.

If you were a picture

"Don't judge me"

* She held a bag in her hand, it said "i'm lovin' it". I assumed that was her dinner. 

* * *

"Once, I was scared of you, but now it is you who are scared of me. That's good, I know you won't come close to me. This is my bed tonight."

* Her scarf looked dirty, no amount of her picking at it would ever get it any cleaner. She started to cough and I wanted to offer my water bottle until I remembered it was empty. I wouldn't want it back anyway. She closed her eyes and blocked out the world and no one came close to her.

* * *

"I'm not crazy"

* She muttered to herself over and over again "no, no I can't do this, no this isn't right" before snatching her bag and leaving the classroom. I wonder if she'll be back.

< 3 Hearts < 3

Voices murmuring around me...
each absorbed in their own...
tired & hungry
and not done yet
2 more hours to go
till the midnight hour
till my paper is due
but I won't be done
no fun
three more finals
this week will never end.

I left my flowers behind
hand-picked by my niece
first for her mother
and then for me,
it's my birthday,
or was,
she says I'm a little old
but I don't feel old
I feel...

I feel like a grown-up
and yet every time they say
"get a grown-up"
I look around frantically
until I realize that
they are all looking at me,
I'm a grown-up now
and yes I stole that line.

Did you know that
monarch butterflies are called
Danaus plexippus
their color is primarily orange and black
they are poisenous to other animals,
and every winter they migrate 2,000
miles to warmer climates?

My favorite colors are purple and pink
they are not actually,
or maybe orange
depends who you ask,
but I got to spend today
with 3 adorable little girls dressed in
that's right
purple and pink
or maybe red,
depending on who you ask.

Did you know
that little kids
can have such big personalities
can give the biggest hugs
can make grown men cry,
did you know?
It's crazy how much you can love a little person
that isn't even yours

She says
"quick, catch me I'm falling!"
every time she goes down the slide,
I wonder what she'd do
if I didn't come running
with my arms outstretched
ready to catch her
but I'll never let her know.

#questionsformen

Do you avoid eye contact with women to prevent unwanted come-ons? Do you wish they wouldn't whistle at you?

Do you avoid a certain street corner because the friendly crossing guard wants to give you his number, maybe have dinner sometime?

 Do you wonder what you did, what you said to make them think that you were interested?

Maybe if you didn't smile at them...

Maybe if you weren't so friendly...

What would you do if a married women said you made her nervous and she thinks she is in love with you?

What would you do if a married women flashed her abs and told you she's been working out lately? (Don't answer that one.)

Is the world as vulnerable a place for you as it is for women?

What would you do if someone made you feel uncomfortable?

Barriers

When, on the last day of class you are reluctant to leave, lingering, hoping for one last bit of wisdom, one more acknowledgment that you exist, that you matter because in this classroom you mattered... And you don't want to let that go... Perhaps once in a lifetime you will have a teacher who will make you feel that way... Lucky are those who've had more than one... You know he's one who has touched you, made an impact on your life, and this leaving, this goodbye cannot take away what you have gained.

He's moving to California. He's told us more details about his personal life than one should. But it's comforting, in a way, to know that he is human.

'If you want to give me a hug, or fist bump me, you can.' I tell him I can't hug him, he asks if we could pretend so we 'air hug'.

We show affection in physical ways, some of us do. Languages of love, it's called. It's easier to hug someone than to simply tell them that you'll miss them.

But this barrier, invisible though it is, is restricting, getting harder and harder to maintain. One day I will tear it down and it won't matter anymore.

משנה מקום, משנה מזל

Standing in the frozen section in Target contemplating the refrigerated cookie dough, just take it home and bake it yourself, hmmm I think I may, as this one has an OU and is dairy-free... Funny thing is, I can bake better than any prepackaged cookie dough, and although the package says "Do not eat raw dough" I open the package as soon as I get home and try the raw dough and instantly regret it, as it's not that good. Nor do the baked cookis taste very good. Ah well, I'll know for next time.

Things are moving around at work, people are leaving, new people are coming, they are moving me upstairs to a different office, and although 'moving upstairs sounds like a promotion, it is not. It is simply a way for a man in power to exert said power and to not have to give a reason for doing what he does. After numerous trips up and down the stairs moving all my stuff, my chair, my computer, everything that I need to keep me sane, I am settled upstairs in silence.

My office was fun, used to be fun, we all know the kind, it happened in high school too, one year it was fun and the next year there was a new principal and the fun was over. There is a new guy in the office, he makes it his job to shush us when it's too noisy, the music is too loud, we are fraternizing when we should be working, etc. He hasn't been here that long and he's a buzz kill.

Upstairs in the new office they tell me it's a quiet office, don't talk unless it's work related, all my friends are downstairs and I am not happy. I know at work you are supposed to work, but healthy socializing is a big part of it, and what with most of the people I started with on their way out, I am holding on to the few familiar faces that are left. When everyone you know starts clearing out, you know it's time to go.

They say that changing one's place physically can change his mazal, and although U don't know if the same can be said for a desk in an office, but maybe this is a good step. I'm trying to figure out what's next for me in life. I'll be graduating in a few months and although that is exciting, I'm not satisfied at my job anymore and I want to move on. Problem is, I don't know what's next.

משנה מקום, משנה מזל.

I hope to figure it out.